It's time for all Demons to follow president's lead

Martin Flanagan

IT WAS with dread that I tuned in to watch a replay of Melbourne's 186-point loss to Geelong, but I ended up clapping along with the crowd.

Part of what happened at Geelong last Saturday was that the Cats put on a special performance. Indeed, for the first time this year, I believed Geelong could win the premiership. The Cats are a mighty team. Last year, they lost their coach and best player. This year, their ambition, if anything, is greater.

There was a moment just after half-time when Matthew Scarlett tore the ball from the arms of a Melbourne player. The sheer strength of the act was striking. He looked as if he could have torn the door off a refrigerator. It's not sufficiently accurate to say Melbourne played badly. Rather, I would say the Demons were diminished until the game was like a team of miniatures playing a team of giants.

In its way, it was thrilling to watch. If you don't believe me, get a copy of the replay and check out the tempo of the commentary in the final minutes. It's like they're calling a grand final. That's because the crowd and the players and the commentators have caught on to the idea that they might be witnessing one of the great exhibitions in the history of the game. Unfortunately, the natural delight of seeing such a performance can make you forget that it is being done at the other team's expense.

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You've got to feel for the younger Melbourne players. Richmond had an epic flop in its much-hyped opening-round encounter against Carlton in 2009. The following year, Richo, who played in that match, told me in his understated way that he thought that game "hurt a lot of blokes". For any footballer with a heart, a loss like that is a humiliating experience. And a club vigorously selling itself with the idea that it's on the way up was suddenly seen as being a very long way down.

For me, the first question after such a loss goes to the coach, Dean Bailey. Was the trajectory of his coaching consistent with this result? However, in a neatly reasoned article on the AFL website, Leigh Matthews argued something quite different. He said the senior players had to accept some responsibility simply because the control of head coaches over their teams is being progressively whittled away, in part, by "leadership groups". The debate, as with so much to do with footy, is endless.

The loss was the second biggest in the history of the game. Even so, the response in the media - social media, anti-social media, mainstream media - was phenomenal. Maybe it's because we're living in generally panicky times. Maybe it's because of Jimmy Stynes and the challenging figure he represents to those of us who sit and watch life from the sidelines. Maybe it's because the story is about Melbourne - the so-called establishment club and the antipathy that still floats in the wake of that notion - but the story found a life of its own.

Assisted by headlines describing it as the week Melbourne got rid of the coach it loved and spared the chief executive, the story leapt into the realm of public melodrama like the St Kilda ''schoolgirl'' story did. It trended on Twitter. Everyone was under attack from somewhere. Garry Lyon found himself trapped: in part by his own talents, in part by his celebrity. On Wednesday, Lyon said he didn't know what to believe because "there were so many stories". Few of us did. Speculators had a field day - so many possible scenarios fitted the available facts.

Jimmy Stynes's performance at Monday's media conference was literally the stuff of legend. He accepted his responsibility in the loss. He said he had been unwell lately and not been able to do as much as he could. Adversity, said Jimmy with a soft smile on his face, exists because we need challenges to grow. Yet again, he enunciated a vision of the club larger than the crisis it found itself in.

Don McLardy, Jimmy's loyal sidekick, says Melbourne has the opportunity to show it's a strong club. He's right. It's time for everyone associated with the club, players and supporters, to give. What's that mean? Look at your president.

I applaud Todd Viney's appointment as interim coach. He was a mobile, physically powerful midfielder who captained the club with distinction. He has since coached Wimbledon winner Lleyton Hewitt at tennis and been part of Hawthorn's 2008 premiership. Impressive credentials.

To the players, I would say there are worse things than losing on a scoreboard. Viney's right; today's about pride. And after what you've been through this week, imagine what it would be to emerge victorious.